When a luxury beachfront hotel in the OC conducts a mass hire, Katie Flanagan’s ninth in line.

Is it her dream job? Possibly.

Will it help her escape living with her parents for the rest of her life? Hopefully.

Add in two hot new hires: one who is her type in all the wrong ways and one who has her questioning what she really wants and needs. Either way, she has a choice to make.

When Katie discovers a secret document aimed at downsizing the staff, she finds her voice and pens a press release that places the hotel, and her, at the center of national coverage. When the corporate line is drawn in the sand, the question becomes – will she cross it?

Havoc, heat, and hotel madness… welcome to the back hallways at the Waterfront Point Resort.

Carmen chuckled and then signaled for the server. “Listen, Katie, the night is still young.” She tilted her head toward the bar where Keebler Boy and Crabby Sandy stood side by side. “What about Chris?”

“The Keebler Elf? There’s not enough beer or bourbon to ever make that right.”

Carmen slapped the table with her hand. The echo caught their attention. Chris and Sandy turned toward us, but so did another Huntington Hopeful, Bogart. I hadn’t even noticed he’d left our table.

“Oh, Katie, you’re hilarious.”

“I’m glad the truth is so amusing because that little man up there….” I shuddered. “No thank you.”

“I concur.” Carmen’s accent was thick with certain words. “But I wasn’t talking about that Chris.”

“Oh, Bogart?” I shrugged. “He’s… I….”

A blonde with razor-cut hair and a tan that she wore as well as her faded 501s, black tank, and Converse set a fresh IPA in front of each of us. “This is from the gentleman at the bar.”

She didn’t turn, but I knew it had to be Bogart.

Carmen put two fingers in her mouth and gave a sharp whistle. It felt like the entire bar looked over at us. “Gracias!” She raised her pint toward Bogart.

“De nada!” He raised a pint in return.

I smiled.

The server pulled out her electronic keypad. “So it looks like you ladies are set for drinks. How about some appetizers or dessert?”

“Actually, speaking of dessert,” Carmen said. “My friend here is having a difficult time choosing between two guys.”

The blonde leaned in. “Which two men are we choosing between?”

“We’re not having this discussion,” I said.

“The guy playing pool,” Carmen said without taking her eyes off the server, who gave a nod in TJ’s direction, clearly knowing who we were referring to. “And the guy at the bar. Not the albino. The one with the great ass who just bought us this round.”

The server didn’t even turn around, but I did look over her toward Bogart. The heel of his boot was propped on the foot rail that wrapped around the bar, and his hands gripped the edge of the bar’s granite countertop. His jeans did cup his ass, but it wasn’t just his ass I noticed. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and he held on to the bar like he was about to do a push-up. His shirt stretched across his back, revealing muscle tone and definition. He had a perfect V-shaped torso, with a narrow waist that broadened to wide, powerful, ready-to-be-clawed-into shoulders.

Mary Billiter is a weekly newspaper columnist and fiction author. She also has novels published under the pen name, “Pumpkin Spice.”

Mary resides in the Cowboy State with her unabashedly bald husband, their combined children, and runaway dog. She does her best writing (in her head) on her daily runs in wild, romantic, beautiful Wyoming.

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